


The blood of winter, it runs in yours and mine

by branding101



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dark Jon Snow, Dark Sansa, Falling In Love, War of the three queens, season 8 AU, she-wolfs of winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 02:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18273575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/branding101/pseuds/branding101
Summary: “Brothers bedding their sisters. What would they say if they knew?” She asks bravery seeping in past nervousness.“I couldn’t care less, even if it means we burn. At least we do it together.” He says a smirk tugging against his mouth, earning him one in return from her.- The snow was falling, white winds blew, the lone wolves were buried, but her pack was still here. She was still here. Surrounded by enemies to the north, south, even in the stone halls of their own home she would protect them. Even if it meant having to sacrifice everything she loved to do so.





	The blood of winter, it runs in yours and mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Ive been thinking about posting this for a while. With the date of game of thrones upon us, I decided why not explore what season 8 could be?

Sansa Stark 

Ice fashioned itself in her veins, gifted from the bloodline of wintering kings and queens who came before her. The proof laid within the whispers of those long gone from the world of the living. They called upon her to listen in the velvet dyed skies. To give into the wildness that had run in both her sister and brothers. Allowing the she-wolf that lurked in the shadows of her soul to run free. Showing those around her that the wolves of winter still lived. 

Illuminated in the fires light pale flesh showed a garden of battle scars. Each painted by men and women who swore words of love and devotion. Their words proving to be poison later bleeding her slowly over the years. She could still feel the tracing of patterns of sharp steel against her skin. Watching as it punctured her, releasing blood until it flowed freely in the cracks of the floor. 

Now, the snow was falling, white winds blew, the lone wolves were buried, but her pack was still here. She was still here. She wouldn’t be contained nor claimed again. 

“…the northern lords will stay their hands for now. All grumble their protests, but they will follow you, and the dragon queen into battle.” She speaks sweeping sunset locks behind her, exposing even more of her skin. She could see silver tracking her movements. 

Standing from the looking glass, her feet were meant with cold stone. The thin layer of her robe hugging her lithe frame protected her little from the winters chill. Walking toward the twin eyed pair sitting in the warmth of her rooms fire she leaned against her sister’s wooden arm rest. Letting it wash over her goose bumped skin.

“Both men, women, and children have been instructed to attend training as requested. No one will be without some knowledge of weaponry when the dead come.” Arya says twirling their mothers steel dagger between skilled fingers, resting the other hand underneath her chin. 

Nodding their brother allows gratitude to fill his voice, “Thank you, both of you. Without your help we might not have ever been ready for this. And with the wall falling, its critical we are more than ever.” 

Sansa could see black shadows hanging underneath his eyes. The tension he always carried in his shoulders each time he meant with the war council showed. He had to walk a fine line between placating both the northern lords, and Daenerys or risk enacting already fragile tempers. 

Ever dutiful and devoted she would weave the perfect image of delicate nature that would diffuse the angered lords and ladies. While, also offering warmth in her interactions with Daenerys and her entourage. Revolting against her bodies nature to shield itself from the southerners’ eyes, especially that secretive spider. 

She would risk it though, for him. 

“I think that’s enough planning for the day, night is here.” She said standing now, “We should all get some rest while we can.” 

Yawning her sister nodded, “Yes, I think I’ll stop by the forge before heading to bed. Just to make sure my blades are sharp for training tomorrow.” 

She shrugged, trying to avoid looking at her siblings whose eyes glimmered in amusement. Huffing she fixed them a glare before opening the wooden door, and leaving. 

“She must be more careful. We cannot risk the queen discovering Roberts bastard amongst us, least she burns him or us all alive for it.” 

“Arya wouldn’t risk Gendrys life. She knows to be careful.” Jon said with a small smile ghosting his lips at their little sister, “Let them be happy with amount of time they have left together.” 

“Are you happy?” She asks hand tracing the bed furs thoughtfully, avoiding his all seeing eyes. Fingers curling against the brown skins, neither frown nor smile etch themselves on her mouth. 

“I doubt any man whose bed was warmed by the body of a queen would find themselves unhappy.” 

The room was silent for a moment, only the crackling of the fire could be heard. Until the sound of wood scrapping against the floor, and footsteps sounded behind her. Within moments she can feel the heat of his body against her back, warmth quickens the skin of cheeks. 

A hand wraps itself against her exposed shoulder, softly turning her around. Deliberately looking down, she can feel the burn of his gaze stripping away her defenses. The humming of her heart thudding quickly against her chest, she wondered if he could hear it too. She could feel him trace his finger underneath her chin, lifting it so sapphire meant sterling. 

“Aye, most men wouldn’t. We both know however who actually warms my bed.” He spoke wrapping his free hand around her waist bringing her closer. Their noses touching, breathes mingling. 

“Brothers bedding their sisters. What would they say if they knew?” She asks bravery seeping in past nervousness. 

“I couldn’t care less, even if it means we burn. At least we do it together.” He says a smirk tugging against his mouth, earning him one in return from her. 

Curling freckled fingers against curls, she closes the space between them. Fastening her mouth against his, she can feel him hum in acceptance. Weaving a leg around his waist, he gains the hint bending and lifting her fully around him. 

She can hardly notice her back hitting the feathered bed, as their mouths fight for dominance. Until they break apart, and he begins to untie the robe letting fall open around her. Drinking in the image before him he nudges her nose, smiling softly down at her. Like a tumbling sea, she can feel affection wash over her. 

Reaching a hand up she softly cups his face, “I trust you. Even when the days grow dark, and our enemies close in, I trust you.” 

He grows still with surprise before he presses a kiss against her hand, and then her mouth. The dead were coming, and some of those she loved could perish in the fight. She knew that, but nights like tonight when he took her and whispered his love she prayed that the gods would pardon another loss of her blood. 

Only the seven knew, and only time could tell.


End file.
